The weeks passed all too quickly for James Hardy. He saw Kate Nugent at
her own home; met her, thanks to the able and hearty assistance of Mr.
Wilks, at Fullalove Alley, and on several occasions had the agreeable
task of escorting her back home.

He cabled to his father for news of the illustrious stowaway immediately
the Conqueror was notified as having reached Port Elizabeth. The
reply--"Left ship"--confirmed his worst fears, but he cheerfully accepted
Mrs. Kingdom's view that the captain, in order to relieve the natural
anxiety of his family, had secured a passage on the first vessel homeward
bound.

Captain Hardy was the first to reach home. In the early hours of a fine
April morning the Conqueror steamed slowly into Sunwich Harbour, and in
a very short time the town was revelling in a description of Captain
Nugent's first voyage before the mast from lips which were never tired of
repeating it. Down by the waterside Mr. Nathan Smith found that he had
suddenly attained the rank of a popular hero, and his modesty took alarm
at the publicity afforded to his action. It was extremely distasteful to
a man who ran a quiet business on old-fashioned lines and disbelieved in
advertisement. He lost three lodgers the same day.

Jem Hardy was one of the few people in Sunwich for whom the joke had no
charms, and he betrayed such an utter lack of sympathy with his father's
recital that the latter accused him at last of wanting a sense of humour.

"There's something more in it than that," said the other, positively.
"I don't like to see this love-your-enemy business with you, Jem; it
ain't natural to you. Has your health been all right while I've been
away?"

"Of course it has," said his son, curtly. "If you didn't want Captain
Nugent aboard with you why didn't you put him ashore? It wouldn't have
delayed you long. Think of the worry and anxiety you've caused poor Mrs.
Kingdom."

Captain Hardy, whistling softly, made no reply, but still stood eyeing
him.

"I thought there was some other reason for your consideration besides
'ordinary decent ideas,'" he said, at last. "When did it come on? How
long have you had it?"

Mr. Hardy, jun., in a studiously unfilial speech, intimated that these
pleasantries were not to his taste.

"No, of course not," said the captain, resuming his seat. "Well, I'm
sorry if it's serious, Jem, but I never dreamt you had any ideas in that
quarter. If I had I'd have given old Nugent the best bunk on the ship
and sung him to sleep myself. Has she given you any encouragement?"

"Play," repeated his father, firmly. "What is the name of it? I saw it
once at Newcastle. The lovers take poison and die across each other's
chests because their people won't let 'em marry. And that reminds me.
I saw some phosphor-paste in the kitchen, Jem. Whose is it?"

"I'm glad to be the means of affording you amusement," said Jem, grinding
his teeth.

Captain Hardy regarded him affectionately. "Go easy, my lad," he said,
equably; "go easy. If I'd known it before, things would have been
different; as I didn't, we must make the best of it. She's a pretty
girl, and a good one, too, for all her airs, but I'm afraid she's too
fond of her father to overlook this."

"That's where you've made such a mess of things," broke in his son.
"Why on earth you two old men couldn't--"

"Easy," said the startled captain. "When you are in the early fifties,
my lad, your ideas about age will be more accurate. Besides, Nugent is
seven or eight years older than I am."

"He was off the moment we berthed," said his father, suppressing a smile.
"I don't mean that he bolted--he'd got enough starch left in him not to
do that--but he didn't trespass on our hospitality a moment longer than
was necessary. I heard that he got a passage home on the Columbus. He
knew the master. She sailed some time before us for London. I thought
he'd have been home by this."

It was not until two days later, however, that the gossip in Sunwich
received a pleasant fillip by the arrival of the injured captain. He
came down from London by the midday train, and, disdaining the privacy
of a cab, prepared to run the gauntlet of his fellow-townsmen.

A weaker man would have made a detour, but he held a direct course, and
with a curt nod to acquaintances who would have stopped him walked
swiftly in the direction of home. Tradesmen ran to their shop-doors to
see him, and smoking amphibians lounging at street corners broke out into
sunny smiles as he passed. He met these annoyances with a set face and a
cold eye, but his views concerning children were not improved by the
crowd of small creatures which fluttered along the road ahead of him and,
hopeful of developments, clustered round the gate as he passed in.

It is the pride and privilege of most returned wanderers to hold forth
at great length concerning their adventures, but Captain Nugent was
commendably brief. At first he could hardly be induced to speak of them
at all, but the necessity of contradicting stories which Bella had
gleaned for Mrs. Kingdom from friends in town proved too strong for him.
He ground his teeth with suppressed fury as he listened to some of them.
The truth was bad enough, and his daughter, sitting by his side with her
hand in his, was trembling with indignation.

"Poor father," she said, tenderly; "what a time you must have had."
"It won't bear thinking of," said Mrs. Kingdom, not to be outdone in
sympathy.

Mrs. Kingdom sighed as though to indicate that her feelings were not to
be suppressed in that simple fashion.

"The anxiety has been very great," she said, shaking her head, "but
everybody's been very kind. I'm sure all our friends have been most
sympathetic. I couldn't go outside the house without somebody stopping
me and asking whether there was any news of you. I'd no idea you were so
popular; even the milkman----"

"I'd like some tea," interrupted the captain, roughly; "that is, when you
have finished your very interesting information."

Mrs. Kingdom pursed her lips together to suppress the words she was
afraid to utter, and rang the bell.

"Your master would like some tea," she said, primly, as Bella appeared.
"He has had a long journey." The captain started and eyed her fiercely;
Mrs. Kingdom, her good temper quite restored by this little retort,
folded her hands in her lap and gazed at him with renewed sympathy.

"We all missed you very much," said Kate, softly. "But we had no fears
once we knew that you were at sea."

"And I suppose some of the sailors were kind to you?" suggested the
unfortunate Mrs. Kingdom. "They are rough fellows, but I suppose some of
them have got their hearts in the right place. I daresay they were sorry
to see you in such a position."

The captain's reply was of a nature known to Mrs. Kingdom and her circle
as "snapping one's head off." He drew his chair to the table as Bella
brought in the tray and, accepting a cup of tea, began to discuss with
his daughter the events which had transpired in his absence.

"There is no news," interposed Mrs. Kingdom, during an interval. Mr.
Hall's aunt died the other day."

"Never heard of her," said the captain. "Neither had I, till then," said
his sister. "What a lot of people there are one never hears of, John."
The captain stared at her offensively and went on with his meal. A long
silence ensued.

"I suppose you didn't get to hear of the cable that was sent?" said Mrs.
Kingdom, making another effort to arouse interest.